


Coincidence

by Mikkal



Series: Partially Developed Storylines [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Episode Fix-it, Episode Related, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Low Self-Worth, Poor Eddie, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, barry may do a lot of talking but this is all about eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkal/pseuds/Mikkal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>He looks up to see Barry standing there just a few feet away, his knuckles pressing into his opposite palm and looking nervous. Eddie really doesn’t want to deal with his back-and-forth about whether he should go back to save his mom right now. Call him a bad person, but he’s just so <i>tired.</i> Two weeks in the hands of Eobard <i>Thawne</i>—learning that, no matter how hard he has tried and will try, he will never amount to anything—has left him hollow and useless, angry at himself and angry at everyone else.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Coincidence

Somehow Eddie finds himself wandering the perimeter of STAR Labs, his feet dragging along and his heart heavy in his chest. Professor Stein’s words just go over and over in his head. But, then again, so do Eobard Thawne’s words.

            Eobard Thawne. He descendent. His great-great-great-however-many-greats grandson that has caused so much pain and torment in people’s lives. His life, Barry’s life, Iris’ life, and countless more that if he thinks about it too much he just feels guilty. He’d said Eddie amounted to nothing in the future, that he’s all but forgotten—not just by his own family, but by the friends he’s made in this city he was never suppose to transfer to.

            Coincidence.

            Is it really that? Only coincidence that led him down this road he’s on? Stopping a mugger from stealing a woman’s bag? Having late night dinners with a CSI when their cases went into over time? Coffee with both of them at Jitters, actually feeling like he means something for the first time in a very long time? Are they all just…would they have happened if he weren’t there? Would Iris and Barry be together, happy, laughing? Coffee between the two of them, late night dinners when Barry comes home late?

            Where would Eddie be?

            He leans against the wall, head bowed and shoulders curled inward.

            Would he be in Keystone still? Alone in an apartment, basically hated by everyone in his department because of something his father did more than a decade ago? Is that what his life was meant to be?

            Is it all really just because of coincidence?

            Footsteps cause him to stiffen. He looks up to see Barry standing there just a few feet away, his knuckles pressing into his opposite palm and looking nervous. Eddie really doesn’t want to deal with his back-and-forth about whether he should go back to save his mom right now. Call him a bad person, but he’s just so _tired._ Two weeks in the hands of Eobard _Thawne—_ learning that, no matter how hard he has tried and will try, he will never amount to anything—has left him hollow and _useless_ , angry at himself and angry at everyone else.

            “I know what you’re thinking,” Barry says quietly, so quietly it’s almost taken in the wind and sounds of traffic. He grimaces and moves closer, close enough Eddie can feel the heat radiate off of him and the end of his jacket brushes against his hand before Barry leans against the wall next to him. “And I _do_ want to ask you for your advice on what I should do.”

            Eddie closes his eyes, resigned. He doubts he’ll be able to give much advice; he doesn’t have the same emotional pull or familial ties to give Barry what he wants.

            “But,” he continues, tone soft. “Right now, I’m worried about _you.”_

Just _hearing_ that makes him want to cry. So many people asked him if he was okay, if he was feeling all right, when they found him under the Particle Accelerator, and he brushed them off—he _had been_ okay, for the brief hours it took for Caitlin to deem him healthy enough to go on his own (with Iris). But then, in the silence of the night, Iris warm against him, it all came back to him.

            _(“Failures, such as yourself, are just the exception.”_

_“…spectacularly uneventful... ”_

_“…the only Thawne to be all but forgotten by history…”_

_“ Waste of a life, waste of a man.”_

_“Barry marries Iris_ , not _you.”)_

Only one person asked him if he was okay after that, and he was so torn apart—ripped, shredded, shattered—he brushed her off. But she came back, and he’s not sure a deserved it.

            “Eddie…”

            He swallows thickly and gives Barry a faint smile. “I’m fine.”

            Barry gives him this _look_ —disbelief and concern and annoyance and anger and nervousness all rolled into one. It’s amazing how open he is with all of his emotions. “I could believe you,” he says. “If it didn’t look like you were just barely holding yourself together.”

            Eddie chokes and presses a hand to his eyes, desperately willing himself _not_ to breakdown in front of Barry Allen. It fails when Barry wraps an arm around his shoulders and holds him tight against him. It’s ugly crying, he’s never been a pretty crier, and the sobs catch in his chest and make it hard to breathe.

            His legs give out from under him, but Barry controls their descent. They slide down the wall to the ground, Barry right into a puddle that had accumulated from a small storm earlier. He doesn’t say a word about it, though, just presses his cheek on top of Eddie’s head and wraps his other arm around him in a hug.

            “I have tunnel vision,” he says, off-handedly and almost casual. “It’s been a problem my whole life. My dad noticed it better than anyone. I put off scholarships to schools I desperately wanted to go to, I never told the person I loved that I did, in fact, love her until she was already in love with this really, _really_ fantastic guy.” Eddie’s shoulders heave and he presses his lips together in order to hold back another sob. “Most recently: I let my friend relive a horrible, terrifying nightmare and be put into life-threatening danger so I could get a confession from the man who killed my mom, just a confession. And I also let a friend, who was held for two weeks by a person we all know to be a sociopath, walk away from me without making sure he was okay—really, truly okay.

            “You told me a long time ago,” he continues. “That you felt threatened by me, that you saw how close me and Iris were and it made you, I don’t know, wonder, worried, irritated, I’m not sure, but threatened was the word you used. I was so confused,” he admits.

            Eddie shifts and lifts his head; he wipes his cheeks and rubs his eyes. They feel itchy and puffy, totally undignified. Barry gives him a smile, sweet and bright as can be like he’s trying to coax Eddie into feeling better with just the expression on his face.

            It works, but only a little.

            Barry seems to realise this and goes on to say: “You’re amazing. You’re funny and smart and attractive. You’re adorable in a way that makes even Caitlin gush about you sometimes. I was so confused of why you felt threated by me. Yeah, Iris and I were close, but she _loves_ you,” he says, throwing weight into it. “And _maybe_ she loves me too—.”

            Ugh, wrong thing to say. Eddie covers his face with both hands this time, but Barry pulls away from the hug to take them away and hold them in his, fiddling with his fingers absently.

            “But she chose _you_ ,” he says earnestly. “She chose you with all her heart. I saw the by-line on the newspaper, just like you. I got excited and giddy, I was relieved to know that we would eventually get married. The only thing though, Eddie, is that newspaper is from a timeline that doesn’t, that _can’t exist_ anymore _._ It’s from a timeline where my mom was still alive, where I got my powers in 2020 instead of 2013. It’s a timeline where Harrison Wells is _actually_ Harrison Wells and not a time jumping sociopath from 136 years from now. Tess Morgan is still alive and, for all we know, we never knew you.”

            Barry shifts until he’s kneeling down in front of Eddie, eye level to each other. The whirlwind of emotions from before are gone from his face, all that’s there is stark sincerity.

            “That’s a timeline completely different than this one,” he says. “It doesn’t reflect on the man you can be _here_ with _us_ , me and Iris. You _matter._ To Iris, to me, Joe, Cisco, Caitlin. Anyone who ever met you Central City, all those people you saved with the cases you’ve closed, with the relief efforts from when the Particle Accelerator exploded. You matter to a timeline that would feel emptier without your—what did the professor call it?—without your coincidence, your anomaly. Each event from now until the end of days isn’t what happens in that timeline Eobard Thawne comes from; it’s your own choosing. And you know now, what _could_ happen, right?” He smiles. “Make your own future. Your own destiny.”

            And suddenly Eddie can’t seem to get his lungs to work, his breathing harsh and short. He grips Barry’s hands tight, curling over. Barry pulls away and Eddie’s about to make a sound of protest when his head is guided to rest against Barry’s chest, one hand is on the back of his neck and the other is in his hair.

            “Breathe,” he murmurs. “In with me.” His expands exaggeratedly. “Out. In. Out.”

            He struggles for a minute, but eventually is able to breathe on his own without Barry compromising his own oxygen levels. And even with every breath is stable now, they don’t move from their positions.

            “Either I said the right thing and you’re a little overwhelmed right now,” Barry says in his ear. “Or I said the wrong thing and you’re still freaking out.”

            “Overwhelming,” Eddie mumbles. He’s entirely too comfortable right now to be thinking about what their positions say about each other. “Barry—.” He interrupts himself, squeezing his eyes shut tighter before pulling away slightly. He’s surprised to see his fingers curled in Barry’s jacket, and leaves them there. “I don’t think you should do it.” He looks up to see Barry’s eyes widen, his lips parting.

            “Why?”

            “Your life here,” he tells him. “With us. It’s not _just_ good enough; it’s not _just_ a stepping-stone to the life you want. _This_ life, right here, gives you two dads who love you, friends who would lay down their lives for you. It gives you Iris, in whatever capacity the two of you decide.” He hesitates for a second, but takes the small cues Barry dropped through his speech. “It gives you me, in whatever capacity you decide.” Barry’s eyes widen even further. “I can’t tell you what to choose, but I can tell you what I _want_ you to chose—I want you to chose _us, this._ The timeline might revert to the original when you change it.” He swallows. “And that’s a timeline that causes—.”

            Barry nods. “I know.” He sighs, closes his eyes briefly before opening them and looking up to the sky. “I know. I just…give me a littler longer to figure this all out. Okay?”

            “Okay,” he says. He doesn’t want to get up, but he has to. “I’m going for lunch, you want any?”

            He shakes his head. “Thanks, but I want to talk to a few more people.” He keeps his hand on Eddie’s shoulder as they stand. “Are you okay?” he asks, serious and somber, his gaze searching.

            Eddie thinks about it for a second before nodding. “I think I will be.”


End file.
